


Lessons of love

by haechans



Category: NCT (Band), SM Rookies
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 09:41:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7527775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haechans/pseuds/haechans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At some point, around the age of fourteen, everyone grows tattoos. They aren't exactly tattoos, though. They come from inside of you, from your heart. Everyone has different tattoos, but there's only one person who carries the same tattoo as you. And that person, my friend, is your soulmate. </p><p>But what is to come of Lee Taeyong, who finds his rose tattoo laying still and lifeless on his lower left arm, and is starting to lose all faith in ever expieriencing love? Will he give up, or will a certain tall figure with a dorky laugh and a heartwarming dimple in his right cheek change everything?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lessons of love

Everyone is born in the same state, naked, small and soft. But at some point, around the age of fourteen, everyone grows tattoos. They aren't exactly tattoos, though. They come from inside of you, from your heart.  
Everyone has different tattoos, but across the globe there shall be only one who carries the same tattoo as you. Someday, you may find your tattoo glowing a bright color, the lights dancing across the room, and you'll hear a pleasant tone that only you can hear. You'll find yourself going outside, to the convenience store around the corner or a bench outside the park you loved as a child; a place that feels right, a place that calls you. And when you find yourself doing just that, there'll be another person there, with a tattoo glowing a bright color, with a pleasant tune playing that only the two of you can hear. And that person, my friend, is your soulmate.  
This may sound like some kind of forced marriage type of thing, I know, but it's really not. That one person is the only person you'll ever be able to love, and the feelings for this person you've been born with will bloom into a beautiful garden of flowers, whether that be lilies, lotuses or orchids. But you must remember this: a flower bud is to bloom only once, and humans are still mortal, as they always used to be. 

That is the intro of the book 'Lessons of love' Taeyong was to read for his class next week. He held the book in his hands and turned it around, looking at the man's cocky-looking face. He didn't believe any of it; the whole 'soulmate' thing, it was just unrealistic, that's what he wanted himself to believe, anyway. He was eighteen years old, and the same rose tattoo has laid still in black and white on his lower left arm ever since he'd turned thirteen. "Well, at least it's kind of pretty" he thought, he could've ended up like his friend Johnny, who had a peanut butter jar tattoo right under his navel. They always used to laugh and wonder if it'll glow brown and blue; like a jar of Skippy, when or if he found his soulmate. It didn't, by the way, it was silver and dark red the night they had met a barista at a coffee shop downtown, who had covered his peanut butter tattoo with the sleeves of his sweater, blushing as he said "I'm not the luckiest, I know". Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul was his name. But he insisted they called him 'Ten', Taeyong thought as he layed back on his bed, trying his best to remember the details. Yes, Ten, the guy with the twinkling eyes and show stopping smile, and the one Johnny was too nervous to ever talk too. That was until Taeyong had lifted up his shirt in the middle of the coffee shop, causing Ten to drop a tray of five large low fat caramel lattes. A reaction to Johnny's rather pleasing abdomen or the glowing jar of peanut butter, he'd never known, he guessed it was a reaction to both. The two lived together now, not far from taeyong's house. They comforted him at times when he thought he'd never find love, or that his soulmate might've died on a choking hazard toy at the age of three. That would indeed be sad. But he'd grown careless for love, and he could no longer even imagine the feeling. Maybe his tattoo had run out of battery, he snickered, and it could never glow even if it desired to do so. He laid his heavy head on his pillow and sighed, his mind running wild with thoughts he was incapable of following, which he thankful for. "Tomorrow is another day" he thought, drifting to sleep slowly. "How tiring"


End file.
